Harry Potter and the Angel of Angel Falls
by Lady Nemesis101
Summary: Swiftly, an icy wind wrapped around her, causing her to her shiver violently. “Please,” she whispered aloud to no one, “please let it be a draft. Please” But she knew better. It wasn’t a draft. Closer and closer they came, their long hoarse rattling breat
1. Memories Fading Back

Disclaimer:

HARRY POTTER, characters, names, and all related indicia are trademarks of and Warner Bros. Harry Potter Publishing Rights J.K. Rowling. All unrecognizable characters, trademarks, and all related indicia come from the imagination of Amy Halo Archer. No profit is being made from the story Harry Potter and the Angel of Angel Falls. Amy Halo Archer has no connection whatsoever to J.K. Rowling.

Harry Potter and the Angel of Angel Falls

By Amy Halo Archer

Chapter One

Memories Fading Back 

A young pale girl rocked herself, hidden from sight in the corner. Her light brown hair was limp and filthy. Her pillowcase clothing hung baggy on her, the result of lack of food, and depression.

Swiftly, an icy wind wrapped around her, causing her to her shiver violently. "Please," she whispered aloud to no one, "please let it be a draft. Please" But she knew better. It wasn't a draft. Closer and closer they came, their long hoarse rattling breaths ringing in her ears.

She wrapped her thin frozen arms around her legs, wishing that they would go away. That it was all a nightmare, just wishing away, like she had done everyday for the past six years.

"Think of happy thoughts, think of happy thoughts," but the thoughts wouldn't come. They all faded away when sharp, chilling hands clamped themselves around her arms, pulling her up.

"No!" she screamed. Her cries ringing through out the halls, echoing off the steel bars of the cells. No one would help her; no one could hear her. They were all were trapped in the terrors of their own past.

"NO! Let go!" she wailed feebly as the dementor dragged her along the chilling icy floor.

Abruptly, they stopped. She closed her hands tightly around her ears, not wanting to hear anything. If they were going to kill her, she didn't want to know about it. "Please let it be quick," she begged silently to herself.

Then, instead of feeling bony hands close around her and ice running through her body, she felt warm hands pull her up. Warmth spread though out her body, giving her an amazing sensation. It felt like a cool autumn day with the kind rays of the sun warming her back.

Looking up, she couldn't believe it. She never thought that she'd ever see her again. Tears flooded and the world went black.

He was flying. The wind ran through his hair and a flash of gold flew by his face. Snapping himself out of the daze, he followed the flash of gold. Sticking his hand out, he grabbed the Golden Snitch from the air. The crowd chanted his name; his teammates surrounded him.

A flash of smoke and no one was to be seen. Cold winds went around him and he saw it. A lifeless body, lying on the hard floor. It was the body of Cedric Diggory. A crackle broke the silence of the air, and Lord Voldemort appeared. His wand pointed directly at him. "Dad! Help me! He's going to kill me!" he cried. Lord Voldemort's snake like lips cracked into a horrifying smile. _"Advada Ked— "_

"Get up!"

Young Harry Potter shot out of bed, grabbing his wand from the nightstand beside him and pointed it at the source of the disturbance, with a spell on his lips, ready to attack.

"Put that thing away!" screeched his Aunt Petunia as she ducked down.

"I'm sorry," panted Harry. He was sweating and felt as if every drop of strength had been drained out of him. "I was having a nightmare," Harry muttered, knowing very well that his aunt didn't care.

"Very well," said Aunt Petunia as she straightened herself up. "Get up. Your Uncle and I are taking Dudley to an adventure park and dinner for his birthday. We'll be gone all day and you'll be staying at Mrs. Figgs."

"Fine," mumbled Harry as the blurry figure of his Aunt Petunia left the room. Once Harry heard the door click shut, he fell back on his pillows with a sigh. He ran his fingers through his already untidy hair and thought about the nightmare.

It was one of many nightmares. Almost every night, they would come. It would always start out with a happy memory, then, it would pull him into that night, the night that Cedric was killed, the night that Lord Voldemort came back, the night that he saw the ghost of Voldemorts' victims, the night he saw for himself, his mother and father.

A tingle began to prick at his eyes at the thought of his parents. He closed his eyes and heard the voice of his mother, of her begging Lord Voldemort to not kill Harry. He could hear his father screaming to his mother, to take Harry and run, while he tried to stop Voldemort.

Not wanting to hear anymore, Harry opened his eyes and rubbed his face, trying to scrub the thoughts and voices away from his mind. Harry pulled his glasses off of his nightstand and the hazy world came into perfect view. He looked around the room and laughed silently to himself. It was ordinary to him, but if anyone else had come into his room, they would gape in bewilderment.

On his desk was a cage that held his snowy white owl that he had received as a gift from his friend Hagrid on his eleventh birthday. His desk was littered with pieces of parchment. At the foot of his bed was a large black trunk that contained a scarlet robe, several black robes, books with titles such as "The Standard Book of Spells," a cauldron, and a broomstick.

Harry left the warm comfort of his bed and walked over to his desk where he had a calendar marking the days left until September first. Picking up his quill, he marked off the date July 23, sighing over the fact that he had to spend a month and eight more days in the Dursley household. Harry looked over to his sleeping owl, Hedwig, and said to her, "Only a month left until we're free Hedwig. Only a month left."

Harry glanced over at the clock. It was 8 o'clock in the morning. His stomach started to grumble, so he quickly changed out of his clothes and into the clothes that the Dursleys had given him, which were 4 times too big because they were Dudley's old clothes.

Harry stepped out into the hall and saw Dudley walking towards the lavatory. Harry remembered how the day before, Dudley blocked the entrance and wouldn't let Harry go pee. Harry, wanting revenge, ran into the lavatory and slammed the door shut on Dudley.

As he quickly locked the door, he could hear Dudley's heavy footsteps pound down the hall and his fat obese hands banging against the door. Harry began to wonder if the door could hold against Dudley's heavy weight.

As Dudley continued his attack on the door, Harry looked at himself in the mirror. He would be 15 in a matter of days and already he was just as tall as Uncle Vernon. Over the summer, he had matured more. He started to build muscles and he had gotten darker from the long hours of Aunt Petunia's chores and the backbreaking labor demanded by Uncle Vernon.

His eyes were an emerald green that he had inherited from his mother. He had shadow black untidy hair that no matter what he did would not stay down. His messy hair hid a scar, a scar that was in the form of a lightning bolt. It was from the night that Voldemort attacked.

Once, when he was younger, he had always loved having that scar. It had made him feel special from the rest of the world, but now, he hated it. It was a constant reminder of the danger of Voldemort, a constant reminder that he was the Boy Who Lived. It was a target for people to gawk at when he walked down the streets of the wizarding world. It was the cause of whispers and turning heads.

Harry closed his eyes and shook away his thoughts. It felt like all he had done today was remember the pain in his young life. Once he opened his eyes, he realized that he no longer heard Dudley's pounding. Fear started to flood into Harry. Where was Dudley?

Slowly, Harry began to open the door slowly just in case Dudley was hiding and waiting for Harry to come out so he could play his favorite game, Harry Hunting. Harry cautiously opened the door and peered out, looking for Dudley. Not seeing the large blob of Dudley, Harry walked out and started down the stairs.

Oddly enough, Dudley wasn't in sight. Harry quickly ran down to the kitchen, where Uncle Vernon was sitting, reading his newspaper.

"Cut your hair!" barked Uncle Vernon like he had everyday for the past 14 years except these days it wasn't as harsh. It was probably because Uncle Vernon was afraid that Harry would write to Sirius and Sirius would come, turn them into toads, cut them up, and use them for a potion.

Harry sat down across from Uncle Vernon and picked up the front page of the newspaper, which Uncle Vernon had already finished. Harry's eyes quickly scanned the paper, looking for anything that might possibly have to do with Voldemort: a car crash, a murder, and kidnapping, something, anything.

Finally, after scanning the newspaper four times, with Uncle Vernon throwing glances of curiosity, Harry decided that there was nothing in the newspaper that had any connection with Voldemort. Setting down the paper, Harry almost jumped back, because staring very hard at him was his Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia didn't even like to say Harry's name, yet here she was, gawking at him like some new creature in a zoo.

"Is something the matter, Aunt Petunia?" asked Harry as politely as possible.

Aunt Petunia squinted her eyes as if she was trying to see through Harry before she said very quickly, "No. Nothing is the matter," then hesitating before she added, "I hope."

Before Harry could ask her what she meant, Uncle Vernon grumbled, "Darling, where is Dudley? We're going to be late." At Uncle Vernon's voice, Aunt Petunia's expression changed from melancholy to joyous, but Harry had a feeling that she was just putting on a show.

"I'm not sure dearest, but the last time I saw him, he was running down the hall, out into the backyard," said Aunt Petunia sweetly. At that moment, Dudley walked in, with a wet spot on his pants. Harry started to laugh, but quickly turned it into a cough when Dudley cast his beady little eyes at Harry.

Aunt Petunia rushed over to Dudley and pulled out the chair. "Would you like something to eat before my special boy's big day, Duddy?"

At the mention of food, Dudley's eyes turned from dark to bright. Dudley nodded happily. It reminded Harry of those little toy dogs that people put in their cars that would just keep nodding while you drove.

Aunt Petunia rushed to the stove and made Dudley a large plate piled with pancakes, eggs, bacon, potatoes, and sausages. A growl from Harry's stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten yet. Harry politely cleared his throat and smiled at his aunt.

Aunt Petunia looked annoyed at Harry for a moment, before understand what he meant. She roughly handed him a plate that looked like it had only a teaspoon of potatoes, one pancake, one egg, half a piece of bacon, and a quarter of a sausage.

Normally, Harry would have asked for a little more, but he just smiled happily at the small portion and ate it. Little did the Dursleys know, but Harry had a lot of goods hidden away under a loose floorboard under his bed.

Harry, not wanting to go another summer starved, had sent an owl to one of his best friends, Ron Weasley, asking him to send Harry something once a week so that he wouldn't starve to death. In exchange, although Ron refused it at first, Harry would send Ron 2 Galleons.

Harry quickly finished off his breakfast and as he got up to go to his room, he said to Aunt Petunia, "That was an _excellent_ breakfast Aunt Petunia." Aunt Petunia scowled at Harry as he made his way up the stairs.

Once in his room, Harry shut the door tight and pulled up the loose floorboard. Inside was a large white bag. Harry pulled out the bag and opened it to see the "treasure" within.

Inside the bag were boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, and wrapped sandwiches, which were curtsey of Mrs. Weasley when she found out what Harry an Ron were doing.

Harry quickly pulled out one for the wrapped sandwiches and ate it. Chewing on his sandwich, Harry closed the bag and placed it back in its place under the floorboard as if it were a priceless family heirloom.

Making sure that the floorboard was tightly in place, Harry stood up and nearly choked on his sandwich. When he stood up, he was eye to eye with an owl. Its large yellow eyes had surprised him. The owl hooted and dropped a newspaper at his feet. Harry ran over to his trunk and dug out 5 Knuts. While placing the money in the owl's pouch, Harry gave it his last bit of the sandwich for it looked very hungry. The owl hooted happily in thanks.

"There's no point in the two of us starving," said Harry as the owl took a drink from Hedwig's water bowl. Harry sat and watched the two owls. It had taken Harry weeks to figure out that it was the same owl each time that delivered his paper. During this time, Hedwig and the owl had become friends.

While the two owls hooted away, Harry picked up the newspaper. It was the Daily Prophet. Harry had subscribed to it to keep an eye out for Voldemort. Harry scanned the front page and saw no signs of Voldemort.

In the corner of the paper, a black and white photo of a girl caught Harry's eye. She had long flowing hair and big eyes. Next to the picture were the words, "First Ever Exchange." Before Harry could read more, Uncle Vernon was banging Harry's door.

"Open up boy! We're leaving!" barked Uncle Vernon. Harry quickly tossed the paper into his trunk and shut his window after the owl left. Quickly saying goodbye to Hedwig, Harry ran to the door and opened it. Uncle Vernon had already gone downstairs. Harry quickly jogged down the stairs.

"It's about time," said Dudley smugly, "If you were any slower, I'd call you-"

"Call me a what? You?" countered Harry.

The gears in Dudley's puny little brain (if he had one) began to work, trying to come up with a smart aleck remark, but before he could, Uncle Vernon barked for them (mainly Harry) to get into the car.

As Harry made his way to the car, he felt Dudley's fat hand shove him onto the pavement. Resisting the urge to jump up and punch Dudley square in the stomach, Harry pushed himself off of the ground when he saw a blue light by the rose bushes.

Harry blinked and looked for the light, but it was gone. Whatever it was that was there was gone. Harry walked over to the rose bushes and looked around. He swore he had seen something, but what?

Before he could investigate further more, Uncle Vernon honked the horn, making Harry jump.

"Hurry up now! We haven't got all day!" whined Dudley; "I want to get to the park before the lines start! And I'm getting hungry!"

Angrily, Harry stomped over to the car and whispered under his breath, "I'm coming, you dim-witted cream puff."

As the car pulled out of the driveway, Harry thought about the blue light. "Where have I seen that before?" was the question that drilled Harry's mind. Harry rested his head on his hand. "Why is that so familiar?" whispered Harry silently to himself.

Harry ran his fingers through his already messy hair and across his forehead. He felt his lighting scar, then, it hit him. He knew where he had seen that light before. That light was the same light he saw every time she left or arrived. How could he not remember her? Harry quickly turned around in his seat and looked out the back window, looking for any sign of her, but saw none.

Harry reached into the back of his pocket and pulled out his wallet. In his wallet were a few bills and 2 pictures, one of his parents and one of his friends. Harry pulled out the picture of his best friends and examined it.

It had been taken in the Gryffindor common room. It was in their third year after the Qudditch final when Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team had won the Qudditch Cup. Harry had convinced Hermione to put down her book and have a drink when Colin Creevey came up with his camera.

In the picture was Ron with confetti in his fiery hair. Next to Ron was Hermione with a bottle of butter beer in her hand, trying to swig it down quickly so she could get back to studying. Harry stood next to Hermione, trying to duck from the drops of butter beer that missed Hermione's mouth and next to Harry was a young Asian girl.

She had long dark brown hair was yanked back into a ponytail. Her thin black glasses framed her deep brown eyes. She smiled a smile that was rarely ever seen.

There was something significant that wasn't visible in the picture; a mark on the left side of her neck. It was two jagged lines that were crossed, forming an 'x.' It was so small, most people would have thought it was a birthmark

Harry gripped the photo and thought silently, "What were you doing here, Emily?"


	2. Right World, Left Mind

Chapter Two

Right World, Left Mind

The faint sound of music floated through the manor. If one were to follow the breath taking sound, one would find themselves in a large, spacious room furnished with instruments of all kinds, from the Cello to the Electric guitar with moving and still photos of legendary musicians on the walls.

Sitting in a sea of crumpled unfinished music, sat the source of the music. Her fingers ran over the keys, the music flowing through her fingers. Her voice gently slid through the air like water slipping from your fingers.

Sighing with satisfaction, the girl picked up the sheets of music in front of her and whispered to herself, "That should make Professor Musicus happy."

Shuffling the papers into a neat pile, the girl grabbed a quill, and wrote her name in the corner, "Robyn G. Strong."

"Finally," she said as she stretched her arms, "I'm done with all the summer work. Why did I get take the Concentio Venustatis class?"

"Robyn, Robyn!" a voice shouted. Robyn turned to see her 2-year-old sister running towards her with something clenched in her tiny hands.

"What's the matter Lizzie?" asked Robyn as Elizabeth jumped into her lap.

"Letter," giggled Elizabeth as began to tug lightly on Robyn's lengthy hair.

"Stop it. You have your own hair," said Robyn playfully as she took the letter from Elizabeth's clenched fist.

Robyn tore open the letter and her dark brown eyes grew big as she read on. The words in the letter numbed her so that she barely took notice to her little sister chewing on her ruby hair.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"This is was one of my older cats, Katrina," said Miss Figg proudly as she pointed to a picture of an orange and white striped cat. "She would always snuggle up close to me at night."

"Uh-huh" said Harry, not paying attention to a single word Miss. Figg said. He was too busy trying to figure out which was worse, being here with Miss. Figg and looking at pictures of dead cats, or being in Professor Binns History of Magic class taking notes. He decided that he preferred the latter. At least then, he'd be in the wizarding world with his friends.

Harry let his eyes wonder over to the clock above the mantle. It was 6:30. He felt as if he had been there for 3 days. "_I wish I knew a spell to speed up time,_" thought Harry to himself.

Harry surveyed the room. It looked like it always had for the past 14 years that he had come here; full of mismatched chairs, random crocket pieces thrown everywhere, and pictures of cats.

As he glanced at the odd décor of the room, something caught his eye. Lying on the table in the next room was a newspaper. From where Harry was sitting, all he could see where the words,

"H. Dumbledore."

Harry froze. "_H. Dumbledore stood for Hope Dumbledore." _ "Emily" breathed Harry.

"Are you a paying attention?" snapped Miss Figg as she followed his gaze. Harry thought he heard Miss. Figg say something that sounded like a swear word.

"Oh my, you must be famished! Let me get you something to eat. After all, you boy like you needs to grow," Miss. Figg said quickly as she got up as walked towards the kitchen.

"No thank you," whispered Harry, but Miss. Figg either didn't hear him or ignored him

Once Harry snapped out of his daze and was sure Miss. Figg was in the kitchen, he ran to the table. The newspaper was gone. Harry looked on the floor, the chair by the table, and behind the table, but he couldn't find it.

"_She must have taken it when she was on her way to the kitchen_," thought Harry.

"_Emily doesn't deal in the muggle word; not publicly anyways,"_ Harry shuffled back into the living room.

"_Why would Miss. Figg have the Daily Prophet?"_ Harry flopped onto the couch.

"_The only reason she would have it is if she-"_ Harry choked. _"If she were a witch. Miss. Figg is a witch. What if... she's working for Voldemort? What if she isn't Miss. Figg?"_

"Here you go," said Miss Figg cheerfully as she put a plate carrot in front of Harry.

Harry drew out his wand, "Who are you?" Miss Figg took a step back.

"Don't move," said Harry warned, _"If she were a Muggle, she wouldn't have backed away"_

"Put that away, Harry," whispered Miss. Figg, "The curtains are open. Put it away before any muggles see!"

"Not until you tell me who you are!" shouted Harry.

"I'm Miss. Figg, the woman who always watched you every year that the Dusley's took Dudley out for his birthday," replied Miss. Figg.

"Everyone knows that. Tell me something that only the real Miss. Figg would know," huffed Harry.

"When you were 5 years old, I was watching after you and Dudley. Dudley had stuffed you in the linen closet and locked you in there. When I asked Dudley where you were, he said he didn't know. I found you 30 minutes later, out of breath," Miss. Figg tucked a piece of hair back under her hairnet.

"When I asked you what you were doing in there, you said Dudley had stuffed you in the closet. Dudley said he didn't and I scolded you even though I knew Dudley was lying," said Miss. Figg.

Harry was shocked. The only thing he could say was, "Why _did_ you yell at me if you knew I was telling the truth?"

"To make it look as if you were miserable here. If the Dusley's knew that I believed you, they wouldn't let you come here anymore. Now can you please put that down!" said Miss. Figg.

As Harry began to lower his wand, he quickly brought it back up, making Miss. Figg take a step back again. "Why did you want me to come here? How do I if you're good or not?"

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now wouldn't I?" said Miss. Figg as Harry slowly lowered his wand.

"You still haven't told me why you wanted the Dursley's to keep sending me here," said Harry as Miss. Figg sat on the yellow flowered chair that was diagonal from Harry.

"You think that Dumbledore would leave you here, alone, for 10 years?" scoffed Miss. Figg, "And after last year, security tightened on orders of Emilia."

"Security?" asked Harry. All this time, he had thought that he had been taking care of himself. That he was on his own, alone on number four, Privet Drive. He wasn't though. He was being watched, like a child. Harry felt a twinge of anger at the fact that Emilia and Professor Dumbledore did not think that he could take care of himself.

"Yes, security. If we were to write it all down, the list would stretch for miles," said Miss. Figg.

"Wait, why are you telling me this now? All these times I've come here, not a word," questioned Harry.

"Dumbledore and Hope didn't want you to know. They wanted you to feel at least a _little_ normal and I'm a Squib so I can't perform a memory charm on you. It was either tell you the truth or get cursed by you," said Miss. Figg.

Harry glanced down at his wand, "Sorry. So all this time, people have been watching me? Following me?"

"From the moment that Dumbledore placed you on the Dursley's doorstep," said Miss. Figg as she watched Harry's slightly paling face.

"You don't look to well darling," said Miss Figg worryingly, "Let me get you some tea."

As Miss. Figg left, Harry stared off into space, trying to absorb the information he had been told.

"All this time, I've been watched, followed, and I didn't know. What if one of Voldemort's followers were following me, I wouldn't know," Harry glanced around the room nervously. "What if they're here right now?" Something dashed out of the corner of Harry's eye, causing Harry to whip around with his wand at the ready.

Mr. Tibbles rubbed his head against Harry's thigh and purred gently.

"Stupid cat," Harry muttered under his breath. Mr. Tibbles, looking insulted, turned around and lied down, with his butt at Harry and tail in the air. Seeing this, Harry couldn't help but laughing.

"Good to see a smile on your face," said Miss. Figg kindly as she brought in a tray full of tea, cups, and crumpets. The smile was wiped away a second later when the doorbell rang.

"The Dursley's," Harry and Miss. Figg echoed. Harry quickly pocketed his wand while Miss. Figg shooed away Mr. Tibbles, whispering something Harry couldn't hear.

Harry grabbed the photo album with all the deceased cats and pretended to be looking at the photos, while he listened to Miss. Figg open the door, greeting the Dursley's.

"Here he is," said Miss. Figg, "still in one piece"

"Thank you Miss. Figg for watching after him, even at this age, but you never know with a troubled child like him," said Uncle Vernon, squinting his dark eyes in Harry's direction, "Any- CRASH!"

Harry jumped up, with his hand on his pocket, ready to pull out his wand, but Miss. Figg gave him a glare of caution.

"What was that?" whispered Uncle Vernon; "I better go have a look at that for you Miss. Figg."

"NO!" shouted Miss. Figg, "I mean, no need, It might just be Mr. Tibbles. Nothing to worry about."

"Nonsense. You can't be too careful nowadays," said Uncle Vernon as if he hadn't heard a word Miss. Figg said aside, "Come along, Dudley." Dudley waddled after Uncle Vernon.

"They could be walking into a trap," a voice whispered to Harry as Uncle Vernon and Dudley disappeared around the corner of the hall. "I'd better go with them," Harry ran down the hall before Miss. Figg could object.

As Harry went down the hall, the only thing he heard was his own footsteps and the footsteps of Miss. Figg and Aunt Petunia behind him. "Please don't let me be too late," Harry wished silently. As he turned into the room, he walked smack dab into Uncle Vernon.

"Out of my way boy," growled Uncle Vernon.

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"It was exactly what Miss. Figg thought it was, it was the cat," Uncle Vernon replied gruffly has he squeezed past Harry to tell Miss. Figg and Aunt Petunia, who were a foot behind Harry, that it was just Mr. Tibbles.

"Well, that was a scare for nothing," laughed Miss. Figg nervously, "How about a cup of tea?"

"Oh, no, we wouldn't want to-" began Aunt Petunia until Dudley cleared his throat and muttered to his mother that he wouldn't mind a spot of tea. As the Dursley's marched into the living room. Miss. Figg whispered to Harry in a low voice, "Don't take your wand out at every sound you hear."

Harry glanced into the room as the Dursley's and Miss. Figg settled into the living room. Harry glared at Mr. Tibbles who was sitting at tall and still.

"Stupid cat," muttered Harry under his breath as he wondered back to the living room.

"So Dudley, how old are you now?" chatted Miss. Figg will pushing a few loose strands of hair back into her hairnet, "20?"

"I'm 15 years of age, Miss. Figg" smiled Dudley proudly as he dumped cubes of sugar into his teacup, leaving some powder on the table.

"Would you like some sugar, Petunia?" asked Miss. Figg.

"No, no, I take my tea strong" smiled Aunt Petunia.

"So do I" agreed Miss. Figg, "the sugar takes away the pureness in tea."

As Aunt Petunia and Miss. Figg chatted about the pros and cons of sugar in tea, Harry watched as Dudley emptied the sugar into his cup. Dudley smirked at Harry as Harry looked for any bit of sugar that Dudley hadn't taken. Harry watched the bits of sugar dissolved in swirls in his cup before drinking the tea. A bitter aftertaste lingered in Harry's mouth. "Does the tea taste a little...off?" thought Harry.

Harry looked over to Uncle Vernon who seemed to be slightly swaying. A wave of relaxation washed over Harry. He felt as if he was flying without a broom, as if he had eaten one too many Fizzing Whizbees. Harry peered inside his cup. Along the sides of the cup were bits of white residue.

"What the bloody-"

A high shrill rang inside Harry's mind. Aunt Petunia had a look of horror on her face. Dudley was laughing hysterically and Uncle Vernon was dancing about the room like a drunken penguin.

Harry tried to ask what Uncle Vernon was doing, but instead the sound of laughter escaped from his mouth. He didn't want to laugh; it just came out that way. As Harry tried to clamp his mouth into the form of words, his laughter shook through out his body, throwing him this way and that way.

"What's going on?" Harry's mind commanded him to say, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out were inhuman sounds.

"What?" Harry asked himself. He felt himself get up and jump about the room.

"Stop Harry! Stop now!" He commanded himself. As he leaped to the ceiling, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like an escaped mental patient.

"Sit!" Harry commanded his body like a dog, but he kept jumping. As Harry's body was about to jump once more, Harry managed to grab onto a chair, which brought him down flat on his bottom.

"WHAT!" Harry managed to shout. "What's going on? Why can't I move right? I'm trapped inside my own mind... the Imperious Curse! " Harry frantically looked around the room, but he only saw a horrified Miss. Figg, a dancing Uncle Vernon, and Dudley.

Harry's eyes went back to Dudley again. Dudley's laughter turned to screams and was cowering into his seat, pointing at the air, screaming, "NO HARRY! STOP! I'M SORRY!" Something connected with Harry's face, sending him across the room.

"Stop it!" shrieked Aunt Petunia, "Leave my Dudley alone, you bastard!"

Aunt Petunia swung at Harry again, but stopped in midair when Uncle Vernon stopped dancing and started shouting, "No! Stop! I didn't do it!" Uncle Vernon pointed a shaky finger at Aunt Petunia. "She did it! She made me break Harry! She did it!"

"Vernon! What are you talking about?" cried Aunt Petunia.

While Uncle Vernon continued to chant, "She made me do it! She did it!" Harry thought to himself, "Focus, I know to overcome the Imperious Curse..." Harry pulled himself upright, but every move he made sent a shock through his body. Something caught Harry's eye.

The room turned icy around Harry. He couldn't hear Uncle Vernon and Dudley's screams anymore. The figure pointed at Harry with a bony hand. It started to glide away from Harry.

"No..." Harry choked. Harry ignored the stabbing pains as he shoved himself off the floor, running after the dementor.

It turned into a room at the end of the hall. Harry fell into the room with his wand out, but there was no one there except for Mr. Tibbles who was sitting like he was minutes ago from when Harry last saw him.

Harry started crawling towards Mr. Tibbles when the dementor appeared in front of Harry. It kneeled down in front of Harry.

"No...." Harry mouthed. The dementor pulled off his hood. Harry choked.

"Cedric!"

Cedric's once silky camel hair was the color of mud. His gray eyes were the color of cold steel. The skin was pale and waxy. He looked like living death.

"Hullo Harry," Cedric smiled, "How's life? I wouldn't know because I'm dead."

"No... this isn't real," breathed Harry.

"Oh yes it is Harry. This is very real indeed," Cedric smiled still.

"You can't be... you can't be alive," said Harry disbelievingly.

"Oh I'm not alive. I am dead." Cedric's smile turned into a sneer. "I'm dead because of you. You murdered me."

Cedric glared at Harry. "It's because of you that my parents lost a son. It's because of you that the world lost one of the people who were destined to be powerful. It's because of you that Cho lost her boyfriend"

When Cho's name was said, Harry looked up at Cedric slightly. Cedric laughed when he saw that. "That's why you killed me, because you wanted Cho. You were angry that I asked her to the Yule Ball first."

"No!" cried Harry, "I didn't kill you! Wormtail did!"

Cedric scoffed, "Wormtail? How pathetic Harry. I'd expect you to do better than that! There was no one else there, Harry! Only you and me."

"Were you angry that Cho chose me over you? That for once, little baby Potter didn't get what he wanted?" Cedric walked closer to Harry.

"Well guess what Harry? Since you took away everything from me, I'll take everything away from you." Cedric drew out his wand. "Time to pay the price of being a murderer... Crucio!"

A searing pain shot through Harry; fire spread through his mind. The room started to swirled around Harry. Cedric's face started to melt away like wax on a lit candle and darkness clouded his world.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"It's the only way!"

"No! I will not call her!"

"If you don't call her we could lose all 3 of them!"

"I will not allow any magic in my home!"

"Your house is intoxicated with magic!"

"I will not let any of people of that kind in here then!"

"What do you think Harry and I are?!"

"I will not call Emilia!"

"Emilia," the name rang thought his mind, "Emilia." Harry opened his eyes. The brightness blinded him, forcing him to shut his eyes tight and cower deeper into the soft cushion. "I never knew clouds were so soft," murmured Harry.

"Clouds?" asked a voice that Harry recognized as the voice of his Aunt Petunias'.

"Oh thank Merlin, he's awake!" shouted Miss. Figg. "Harry, Harry, open your eyes dear."

Slowly Harry peeked open his eyes. "I'm not in Heaven," said Harry disappointingly.

"You should be glad you're not," sneered Aunt Petunia.

Little by little, Harry took in his surroundings. They were in the Dursley's living room. Uncle Vernon was lying on the floor by the fireplace and Dudley was sitting in the armchair, unconscious.

"Cedric got to them too?" cried Harry

"Whose Cedric?" said Aunt Petunia, ready to attack whoever harmed her son and husband.

"No, no," hushed Miss. Figg, "Cedric's not here, Harry. He's gone remember? He's the one who's in Heaven, not you." Miss. Figg turned to Aunt Petunia, "We have to call her, Petunia. If Harry's seeing people from the dead, who knows what's going to happen to Vernon and Dudley." Aunt Petunia stared icily at Miss. Figg, but didn't speak.

"Enough with the charade Petunia! Vernon can't hear you. If you don't call her, he'll never be able to hear you!"

"No! I will not!" Aunt Petunia stomped her foot to exaggerate her decision.

"Are you going to let your jealousy of your sister's gift take the life of her son, your son, and your husband?" said Miss. Figg touching a nerve, "Wait, no. Of course you are because according to you, your sister was a freak so that makes Harry and freak too."

"She wasn't a freak! She-"Aunt Petunia trailed off when she caught sight of Harry's eyes "was my sister."

Aunt Petunia sighed heavily as she bent down besides Harry. Harry thought Aunt Petunia was going to hug him, but instead, she reached under the coach that Harry was laying on and pulled out a dusty photo frame. She wiped off the dust on the back of the frame and carefully pulled off the backing. Inside was a small packet filled with tiny red and lavender crystals that looked like salt.

"Call her," said Aunt Petunia as she handed the packet to Miss. Figg.

Harry took the photo out of Aunt Petunia's hands. It was a moving wizard photo of two young women, one with long shinning blonde hair and the other with fiery red hair, hugging each other and laughing. In front of them were two strollers, one with a large blonde baby who was shaking a rattle and the other with a chubby baby who was tugging at his wild jet-black hair.

"That was taken a month before you and your parents went into hiding. Your uncle never knew that I visited you, Lily, and James," said Aunt Petunia as she smiled at the picture.

"I thought you hated me and mum and dad," said Harry surprised.

"It was a mistake. I was young and in love with Vernon. He despised magic and he would only marry me if he thought I despised it too. He hated Lily and James. When I was about to break it off, I had Dudley and I couldn't take a father from his son and a son from a father," Aunt Petunia sighed slightly, "so I would go visit you and Lily, but I never told Vernon."

"If you loved me and mum so much, then why do call her a freak? And me?" asked Harry, slightly confused, "Am I in the wrong world?"

"No, your not," chuckled Aunt Petunia. Harry glanced at her. For the first time, Harry saw the real Aunt Petunia. The Aunt Petunia was just as loving and caring as any other mother for all children.

"When you showed up on our doorsteps, I cried. I knew Lily and James were gone. Vernon wanted me to leave you at an orphanage, but you were all I had left. I told him that we'd have to pay hundreds of pounds to keep you at an orphanage with no questions asked," said Aunt Petunia as she fingered the beige carpet.

"I didn't want Vernon to know that I didn't hate magic so I had to be so cruel to you. It broke my heart every time I had to send you to bed without dinner. I used to sneak in at night and leave some cookies by your stand for you until Vernon caught me. I told him I was going to Dudley's room."

"So that was you?" said Harry, surprised.

"I didn't want you to die from starvation," said Aunt Petunia as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's ready," called Miss. Figg. Miss. Figg had cleared the table in the living room. On the table, she had poured the purple crystals in a circle with a candle that was about 1 cm high in the middle.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"We're calling for reinforcements. Something was done to us while we were in my home and we need to find out," Miss. Figg replied as she searched for a match.

"Why not use Floo powder?" asked Harry.

"Because," said Miss. Figg as she tried to lit the candle, "one, this fireplace isn't connected to the Floo Network and two, if we do it this way, there's no possibility that anyone can trace the path or come through 'accidentally'."

Miss. Figg handed Aunt Petunia the red crystals and nodded encouragement. Aunt Petunia took a handful of the crystals and stood on the edge of the circle. Harry tried to step forward, but Miss. Figg held him back.

Aunt Petunia threw the crystals onto the flickering flame on the candle. When the crystals and the flame connected, harsh dark colors of black and red exploded around the room, causing Aunt Petunia to step back in shock. The flicker of flame turned into a roaring fire. Fear chilled Harry's spine and his heart skipped a beat. The fire cast Aunt Petunia's shadow on the walls making it seem to Harry as if Aunt Petunia looked almost like an evil sorceress. He held onto his wand for comfort.

"Call her" Harry remembered Aunt Petunia saying. "Wait a minute, who are we calling?" asked Harry. Aunt Petunia announced in a strong clear voice,

"A line of legend times

Along the lines of hundreds

We call for one of fire time

We call for Phoenix the 29th"

Watching Aunt Petunia, Harry began to feel dizzy and felt as if the world was starting to suck him in towards the center of the Earth. "Am I in the wrong world?" Harry's own voice echoed through his mind. "What if... what if I am in the wrong world? Aunt Petunia would never be this kind to me. She hates me."

The fire jumped and settled back to a flicker. The colors receded and were replaced by light kind colors that calmed Harry's racing heartbeat. The colors calmed him a little bit too much. Harry knew it was happening again.

"Whoever they're calling is probably the one who's doing this." Harry moved carefully away from Miss. Figg. She was watching Aunt Petunia intently, not noticing Harry move away. Harry carefully backed away from the living room, moving backwards up the stairs to his room, making sure not to let any of the steps creak.

Half way up the stairs, Harry could still see the flickering of the candle rise and fall, but then, the flame went out. Harry froze. He could see the shadow of someone else in the living room. He was right.

"Where is he?" cried Aunt Petunia. Harry ran up the stairs, not caring if the steps creaked. Harry locked the door behind him. Hedwig hooted with surprise.

Harry kicked open his trunk and found what he was looking for; one of Fred and George's inventions to avoid going to class. It looked like a piece of worthless string, but if you tucked it into the keyhole of a door, it would make the weight of the door hundreds of pounds and it would also freeze the handle so the handle wouldn't turn, making it impossible to open the door if it was locked. Harry carefully tucked the string into the keyhole and listened until it clicked.

Harry ran over to the window and shoved it open. Harry called to Hedwig, "Hedwig, go! Leave, they aren't Aunt Petunia and Miss. Figg! Fly to the park and wait for me there, I'll come on my broom." Hedwig looked at Harry with her big bright mooneyes.

"I know Hedwig. Don't worry, I'll be ok." Harry stroked Hedwig softly and carried her over to the window.

Without watching Hedwig leave, Harry quickly dug out his Firebolt and a small shoulder bag. He threw in his moneybag and the Marauder's Map into the bag. He could hear the rapid footsteps coming. Harry pulled out his father's invisibility cloak and wrapped it around himself. With the bag over his shoulder and the cloak covering Harry ran over to the windowsill.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"What happened?" were the first words that left her mouth.

"We were drinking tea when Harry, Vernon, and Dudley started acting strange," began Aunt Petunia.

"Strange how?" she pressed.

"At first" continued Aunt Petunia, "they were happy, too happy. It looked like they had breathed in laughing gas. Then they started screaming and Harry ran thought the house and through the hall. When we got to him, he was unconscious like Vernon and Dudley."

"Where's he now?" she asked.

"He's right--" Miss. Figg trailed off. "He was here a moment ago." A loud slam of a door was heard.

"No Harry" she whispered as she ran to the stairs. She could hear him pulling the window open and heard a thud of his trunk lid. She grabbed the knob; it wouldn't turn. "I'm going to get you one day for this Fred and George."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Harry! Don't!" voice sailed through the door. Harry stopped short. He knew that voice.

"Emily?" Harry asked desperately," What's going on?"

"I don't know Harry. I'm going to find out what's going on, but I need your help Harry. You can't help me if you run."

"How do I know if it's you?" Harry yelled at the door, "You could be working for Voldemort for all I know!"

"You have to trust me Harry! Open the door!"

"I want to believe it's you," Harry wanted to say, but he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted something to make sense, he couldn't trust anyone. Harry turned back to the window, but stopped.

A tall-cloaked figure stood in front of the window. It drew long hoarse rattling breaths. "There's a dementor in my room..." Harry thought to himself, "Things just kept getting worse."

Harry drew his wand and thought of the time that Sirius had told Harry that once they proved Sirius innocent, Harry would be able to live with him, away from the Dursleys. "Expecto patronum!" A stag formed out if Harry's wand and charged at the dementor, but the dementor didn't even step back.

"Why isn't it working?" Harry begged to himself. "Expecto patronum!" Harry cried again, but this time the dementor advanced towards Harry.

"Harry! Open the door Harry!"

Harry felt as if he were going to be sick. There was nothing he could do. In front of him was a dementor; behind him were people who could be working for Voldemort.

"They could be working for Voldemort. It doesn't mean they are," realized Harry.

The dementor took a step towards Harry. The room started spinning around Harry. The dementor's figure started to melt in front of Harry. He could hear Aunt Petunia and Miss. Figg calling, but their voices were receding. Everything around Harry started to become a cloud of black. He needed help.

"EMILY!" Harry bellowed as he started backwards. The room swirled around him faster and faster, turning darker with every step he took towards the door.

"HARRY!" Emily's voice shot through the confusion "Follow my voice Harry!" Harry's back hit the door and the dark took over.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Expecto patronum!" Emilia heard Harry yell.

"Merlin no" Emilia whispered. "Harry! Open the door!"

Emilia laid her hands against the door and scrunched her face in concentration. This was going to hurt Harry more than it hurt her. With a deep breath, she shoved her hands against the door, but they didn't stop at the door, they went through.

Emilia breathed in sharply as her hands reached through the air searching for Harry. Emilia yelled to him, "Follow my voice Harry!" Finally, she felt the familiar tuff of hair against her hands. She didn't hear any noise coming from inside the room. Bending down so she could grab a hold of Harry's shoulders, Emilia took one more breath and pulled Harry though.

Harry was pale and sweaty. There were bits of dried blood near his nose. "What's this?" Emilia said indicating to the dried blood.

"He was having a nosebleed when we found him the first time," said Miss. Figg

Emilia pulled a long silver chain out of her pocket. "Help me get Harry downstairs next to Vernon and Dudley. Put this around their necks, we need to get them to the castle doctor now."

Taken from "Harry Potter and the Cloak of St. Patrick" by Gwendolyn Patrick (K.J. Strong)


End file.
